30 weeks!

I'm happy to say this baby is still cooking. I'm at that point in pregnancy that I'm showing enough to be big and pregnant...but it's still cute and not too awkward or uncomfortable. I'm going to enjoy it while it lasts because I know what is coming-and it is definitely not pretty.

I've been telling Caden that the baby will grow bigger and bigger until it's ready to come out of my tummy. "It will grow up to your neck?" he asked. "It will grow down to your knees?"
So I explained that no, it won't go to my neck or knees, my tummy will just get bigger. "Your tummy will get bigger and bigger, and then it will pop," he confirmed. That's one way to think of it.

Usually the first question people ask me is, "Is it a boy or a girl" and when I tell them we're not finding out til July when the baby gets here, the response is the same a majority of the time. "I always wanted to do that--but I'm too anal." I'm really surprised at the number of self-proclaimed anal people there are in the world! (Not that I don't have my issues--just ask my mom about underwear shopping with me when I was 7 years old.)

The next question is, "Well what do you think it is?" or "What do you want?"

From the day I found out I was pregnant, I thought it was a boy.
Beginning when Chad announced, "It's a boy" and Caden was put in my arms, my life has been devoted to raising a little boy. It's all I know. I love it. I am so happy with geotracks and Spider-man books. I want to do it forever. Besides, I once loved a boy enough that I didn't want to live without him, and so we got married. I'm just a fan of the boys in my life.

Plus, Chad came home one day and said, "I think we need to be discussing boy names. I'm pretty sure it's a boy." I bought a new boy outfit at Target so he'd have something to wear home from the hospital.

But then we started announcing it to people. The first thing my mom said was, "I can't wait to have a new grand daughter!" She's been right 9/10 times with the grandkids, and has earned her credibility. My mom and sister began sending me tiny, pink, ruffly outfits in the mail. And we got so many, "It's a girl--I just know it!" comments that I began to get excited. I made a bag of darling hair bows. I looked through boxes of my SIL's girl clothes--and died at the cuteness. There was an entire box dedicated to shoes. Shoes!! Ballet slippers, jellies, sandals. I spent the week in UT loving all my nieces, and the idea of a little girl grew on me.

Until one day my mom called me to say, "I'm not feeling so positive about saying it's a girl. Maybe it's a boy." And within the week Chad mentioned, "All week long I've been saying "she" about the baby--so maybe it's a girl."
And I took the boy outfit back to Target, and gave the bag of hair bows to my sister for my darling niece. But instead of feeling disappointed, I just feel more excited. It's a boy! It's a girl! I can't go wrong.

So I'll spend the next 10 weeks dreaming of dollies and jelly sandals or tractors and trains- knowing that whatever comes out- I will love it all the same.




Thanks to my friend, Jenn, for sending a new fun dress!